The Crossroads of Destiny
by Priestess Mayumi
Summary: Zuko's spiritual awakening causes him to make a different decision in the Crystal Catacombs of Ba Sing Se. The banished prince sheds his past and finds his real destiny: to help restore peace to a world at war.
1. Zuko's Decision

" _You're not the man you used to be, Zuko. You are stronger and wiser and freer than you have ever been. And now you have come to the crossroads of your destiny. It's time for you to choose. It's time for you to choose 'good'."_

* * *

Zuko was torn by Azula's ultimatum.

Was there any reason to trust what his sister said? The last time Azula offered him "redemption", it had been a trap: a one-way trip to prison. What reason did he have to believe that this time would be different?

Well, last time, he had failed in his quest. The Avatar had escaped and the invasion of the North Pole had failed. Father had been disappointed in him. But now the Avatar was here, in Ba Sing Se. Zuko could defeat him, with Azula's help. And they could hand both the Avatar and the Earth Kingdom over to their father. Surely that would be enough to restore Zuko's honor? Azula was offering Zuko everything that he ever wanted.

At least…Zuko _used_ to want it. His honor. His throne. His father's love. And the empty part of him still craved those things. But his heart was aching. Earlier today, he had been happier than he'd been in a long time. He'd been happy for the _first time_ since his mother's disappearance. And now, when he should be decisive, his uncle's voice rang clear in his mind.

" _I'm begging you, Prince Zuko! It's time for you to look inward and begin asking yourself the big questions. Who are you, and what do_ _you_ _want?"_

Who was he? Well…he was the prince of the Fire Nation. Heir to the throne. The son of Ursa and Fire Lord Ozai…

" _You're not a prince, you're an outcast! His own father burned and disowned him!"_

Zuko flinched. The words of the old man from the Earth Kingdom town still stung him. Because they were true. He was no prince; he was a pariah. He was not the son of Fire Lord Ozai; his father had cast him out. So what did that leave him?

And what did he want? Did he truly want to go back to the Fire Nation? Back to a place where everyone hated him? Where everyone had turned their backs on him? Back to the father that had burned him and the sister who had hunted him down? What _did_ Zuko want?

He wanted the war to end: this horrible, costly conflict that had taken Uncle Iroh's honor and cousin Lu Ten's life. No war meant no more war room meetings. No more raw recruits being sacrificed in the name of Fire Nation victory. No more Agni Kai duels over what kind of moral decline was acceptable during wartimes.

Zuko thought of Song and Lee and Jet, and of the countless many who shared their plight. He thought of the Avatar, who had come to rescue him, and the Water Tribe girl who had offered to heal his scar. They had lost as much to the war as he had, maybe even more. Zuko was sick of knowing that his people—his _nation_ was the cause of so much suffering in the world. No amount of patriotism or loyalty could erase the inhumanity that he had seen with his own eyes.

Swallowing deep, Zuko bit his lip. He thought of his mother, and of the last thing she had ever asked of him. For the first time, he wondered what her words really meant, and if he could have interpreted them incorrectly all this time. He could only hope that she would understand, and forgive him for what he was about to do.

He whipped around and began to heat the crystals imprisoning his uncle, trying not to singe the older man as he melted the mineral restraints.

"Go." Zuko looked up at his uncle in surprise. " _Go_ ," Iroh repeated with a smile. "There are those who need you more than I do."

Zuko's eyes flickered to the tunnel where the Avatar and the Water Tribe girl had disappeared. Azula wasn't far behind them. If the Avatar was the world's last hope for peace, as the girl had said, Zuko couldn't let his sister snuff that out—no matter the past scores and resentments.

Zuko's gaze snapped back to Iroh, his stomach twisting in a knot of hesitation. "I'll come back for you, Uncle." He fought to keep his voice from trembling. "I'll bring an army to save you, if I have to."

Iroh nodded. "Just come back safely, nephew."

With one last glance in his uncle's direction, Zuko ran off into the dark tunnel, following the smell of smoke and the clouds of steam ahead. His heart was racing. The emotion pounding through his veins was similar to fear, but Zuko did not feel afraid. He felt like something had been resolved within him.

Coming to the end of the tunnel, he saw Azula caught between the Avatar and the Water Tribe girl, waiting to attack whoever made a move first. Or working out how to take them both down at once. Zuko wouldn't give her time for either. He sent a stream of fire from his fist that divided the enemies from each other. When the blaze died, all three looked at him, trying to make out which side he was on.

He didn't let them wonder for long. His next fireball was directed at Azula. Zuko could see in her eyes that he had caught his sister off-guard, even as she used her quick reflexes to evade the blow. He leapt into the fray, landing with his back to his former enemies.

"You have to get out of here!" he shouted back to them, firing as many volleys of fire at Azula as he could before she fully recovered. "Go _now_!"

The answer to his plea was a flurry of attacks in Azula's direction, coming from behind him. The Avatar and the girl weren't retreating. They were staying to fight. The massive irony didn't go unnoticed by a frustrated Zuko. The Avatar's group had spent so long running away from him, and the one time he _wanted_ them to escape, they wouldn't.

Even the three of them working together were no match for Zuko's prodigy of a younger sister. Azula was too fast and her movements were too powerful and precise. The elements of water, earth, and air weren't enough against Azula's mastery of the most volatile and aggressive element there was. And Zuko, the only firebender among her opponents, could barely keep up with her.

The situation took an even grimmer turn when the Dai Li agents under Azula began to swarm the cave. The Avatar and the Water Tribe girl turned their attention on them while Azula and Zuko continued to send endless barrages of fire at each other. Zuko couldn't last much longer; his sister's stamina far surpassed his own. They both knew that, and it was clear the Fire Nation princess was keen to settle this quickly. At her brother's first sign of fatigue, she used a fire whip to knock his feet out from under him.

Zuko landed on his back with a flinch and light groan. As he pulled himself up again, he saw blue flashes of light and heard the cackle of electricity. _Lightning_. Azula's fingers danced through the air, energy surging around her. Zuko dug his feet into the ground, taking a firm stance and bracing his body, waiting for Azula's arc of lightning to strike him. He tried to remember everything that Uncle Iroh had taught him about redirection. _In, down, up, and out._

"You're a traitor," Azula smirked. "To your family and your nation." She aimed the bolt at his chest and fired.

There was a flash of light before Zuko felt a painful tingling in his left hand where he'd intercepted the charge. Remembering he needed peace in order for this to work, he cleared his mind and pictured the flow of energy through his body.

The lighting traveled up his arm to his shoulder… _I am a citizen of the Fire Nation, and of the world_.

…down past his heart into his stomach… _I am the son of Ursa._

…up into his other shoulder… _I am the nephew of Iroh._

 _I am Zuko._

With a cry, he shot the lightning out of his right hand and back at Azula. His sister was thrown backwards with the force of his redirected attack. Zuko took the opportunity to whirl around and take out several of the Dai Li agents surrounding the Avatar and the girl. But his contribution barely made a dent. There were just too many earthbenders for the three of them to defeat.

Zuko saw his realization reflected in the Avatar's eyes when their gazes locked. The younger boy's gray eyes flickered to the Water Tribe girl, who was using an octopus stance to protect herself. But that wouldn't hold up for long either. The Avatar's eyes closed and he mouthed something to himself. He seemed resigned, though Zuko didn't know what to.

The Avatar bent a crystal barricade around himself and the entire room was still. Each warrior held their breath, waiting to see what would happen next. Was the Avatar running away? Zuko didn't think so. More likely, he was preparing to unleash even greater power, as he had at the North Pole. The firebender's suspicions were confirmed when the quartz shelter began to shine with an ethereal light. Then, the barrier shattered altogether, sending the closest Dai Li agents flying back. The Avatar rose in a great column of light, his tattoos and eyes glowing brightly. The entire cavern was awestruck, rendered speechless and motionless by the amazing display.

The entire cavern, minus one.

It was only when the Avatar's crumpled form, sparking with electric current, fell towards the earth that Zuko realized what had happened. This time, Azula's lightning had found its mark. The former prince was in shock. The Avatar was supposed to be invincible. But he had fallen. How could this happen? This wasn't _supposed_ to happen.

A surge of water consumed the Dai Li as the Water Tribe girl road a giant wave, catching the Avatar's body before it could hit the ground. She held him, as though trying to will life back into the small body. But the Avatar was unmoving. The girl's eyes filled with tears. She understood what Zuko did: it was over.

Something like anger spread through Zuko's entire body. Using his fire, he propelled himself between his ostensible allies and the Earth Kingdom militants. For a moment, he locked gazes with the Water Tribe girl. He wished he knew her name. He'd chased her and her friends all over the world; he should know _all_ their names by now. But that tenet of etiquette had always alluded Zuko. Even more so when it came to his enemies.

But they weren't enemies now. They were just teenagers on opposing sides of a war. Maybe the Avatar was right. In another world, they could probably have been friends. But that chance had passed them by for the final time.

Even so, he wouldn't let Azula take any more lives today. "You have to go _now_ ," Zuko ordered the girl behind him in a tone that was soft but firm. He almost didn't recognize the sound as his own voice. The waterbender looked equally stunned, but she tearfully nodded before bending the waterfall behind her, riding it to the top of the cavern and out of sight.

Zuko fired as many blasts as his tired body would allow, distracting the Dai Li just long enough for her to escape. Then, he felt a forceful blow to the back of his head. Azula's triumphant, gloating grin was the last thing Zuko saw before darkness consumed him.

* * *

Iroh was nearly finished melting the crystalline prison around him when he heard footsteps coming back through the tunnel. His hands were free, so he held them up in defense, ready to fight if necessary.

His niece entered the cavern, flanked by dozens of Dai Li agents. At a signal from Azula, his hands were restrained again. Iroh considered using his breath of fire on these adversaries, but decided that was unwise at the moment.

"The Avatar is dead," Azula proclaimed with a taunting smile. "Ba Sing Se has fallen. I have redeemed your disgrace of five years ago, Uncle."

"The loss I suffered in this city is not something that you could ever reconcile," Iroh replied with an even tone, not about to be cowed by the monster Ozai had created from a once-innocent child.

Azula rolled her eyes. "You're weak, Uncle. Anyone worthy of the title 'Fire Lord' would have fought until the siege was ended. But you ran like a coward." Her grin morphed into a cruel sneer. "Maybe if you weren't a weakling, you would still have a son."

Iroh's breath hitched as he fought to keep his emotions under control. "What happens now?" he asked his brother's youngest child.

Azula raised her chin proudly. "I will return to the Fire Nation as a war hero, and as the future Fire Lord. And _you_ will rot in jail for the rest of your life, Uncle—forever haunted by the two boys you let die in this city."

The color drained from Iroh's face and his muscles slackened. No. _No._ That was impossible. Azula was trying to demoralize him. It wouldn't work. The retired general stared his niece down with a resolute glare. Azula saw the defiant doubt in his eyes and smirked, her eyes glittering with a malice dying to prove him wrong. She drew something from her clothing and threw it to the ground with mockery and contempt.

It was the charred remnant of a pearl-handled dagger. The dagger that he had gifted Zuko after the fall of Ba Sing Se's outer wall, just before Lu Ten's death. The weapon was burned almost beyond recognition, but Iroh had seen enough of it in the past three years. The knife had never left his nephew's possession in all the time they'd spent together. That Azula had its smoking remains meant that Zuko was badly hurt and taken captive…or…

"It's a shame," Azula lilted in fake pity. "If he hadn't listened to you, Zuzu would still be alive."

The Fire Princess's words finally had their desired effect. The Dai Li sprang forward to create a large wall in front of her, intercepting the gigantic surge of fire that poured from Iroh's mouth. The Dragon of the West was consumed by rage and agony and denial. Zuko wasn't dead. He _couldn't_ be. There was no way that Iroh could have failed another son. His niece was a consummate liar, and there was no reason to trust her.

But the fragments of Iroh's past cynical self saw no reason for Azula to lie this time. She had won. Iroh was no threat to her. And the chances of her showing mercy to her brother were practically nonexistent.

His heart sank. What should he have done? Should he have told his nephew to betray himself and live? In the end, it hadn't mattered what path Zuko chose at the crossroads of destiny; Iroh would have lost him either way. The realization was crushing. Iroh's body went limp and he collapsed in his restraints. His fire and will to fight died out as sorrow overtook him. The same devastating sorrow that had broken him after he lost his first son.

He couldn't bring his eyes up to face Azula as she passed judgement. "Take my uncle away," she ordered her Dai Li agents. The amber-eyed princess made a painful parting shot as Iroh was dragged off. "He enjoys being alone with his thoughts."

* * *

Katara looked out into the night, which seemed as dark as her spirit. She had been able to bring Aang back with the spirit water from the North Pole, but he hadn't regained consciousness since then. The Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se, in the distance behind them, was alight with fire. The Fire Nation had won the city. And with it, Katara feared, the war.

Sokka hadn't given up hope yet. He was steering Appa toward Chameleon Bay, where their father and the other warriors of the Southern Water Tribe were located. Her brother still had hopes for an invasion of the Fire Nation. But Aang would have to recover before Katara considered that a viable option.

King Kuei and Bosco were asleep on Appa's back, but they were the only ones besides Aang who weren't awake. There was silence between the three remaining companions for a while before Toph spoke up. And her question wasn't one Katara had expected.

"Where's Zuko and his uncle?"

"What?" Katara turned her head as far as she could to look at the younger girl.

"Yeah, apparently Toph got real chummy with Zuko's uncle when she bailed on us that one time." Sokka didn't look impressed.

"Hey, I didn't know he was Prince Pouty's uncle," Toph defended herself. "And he was great for an old guy." She turned her attention back to Katara. "He went with Twinkle Toes to save you and Zuko. What happened to them?"

The huge lump that formed in Katara's throat kept her from speaking. Her discomfort didn't go unnoticed by Sokka, who immediately jumped to the worst conclusion. "It was a trap, wasn't it? I _knew_ it! That's how you and Aang got ambushed! I _knew_ we shouldn't have trusted him!"

"He saved us…" Katara whispered.

"What?" Sokka leaned closer, not having heard.

"He saved us," Katara repeated miserably. "Zuko did."

"Who?" Now Sokka was certain there was something wrong with his hearing.

"Zuko!" Katara shrieked, on the verge of tears. King Kuei groaned in his sleep and turned over, away from the noise.

Once the deposed monarch had settled again, Sokka whispered, " _Our_ Zuko? The Zuko who's chased us around the world? The Zuko who's done everything he could to capture Aang?"

"Is there some other Zuko she would be talking about?" Toph deadpanned.

Silence returned to their group for several minutes while each member processed the information.

"But… _why_?" Sokka finally voiced the question in their collective consciousness.

Katara didn't know the answer. Earlier today, she had been convinced that Zuko was a completely irredeemable person. He was the embodiment of the Fire Nation's brutality and thirst for war. Zuko was not just an enemy, but _the_ enemy.

But the Zuko she'd been imprisoned with in the Crystal Catacombs was an entirely different person. He was soft-spoken and thoughtful. He seemed lost and confused and hurt. And…he'd said something about losing his mother, and about being banished. Katara had no idea what he'd meant, but she wished that she did. The more she thought about it, she knew _nothing_ about Zuko, other than he was the Fire Nation prince. But she'd gotten a small glimpse of what must be the real Zuko today, and that person was someone that she felt sorry for. Someone that she wanted to help. She had almost used the spirit water to heal his scar.

That small act of mercy could have cost Aang's life.

Katara was grateful that she had saved the spirit water, but as she thought about "costs" and "life", her throat got even tighter. Even when she was surrounded by Dai Li, she hadn't been completely oblivious to the fight between the two Fire Nation siblings. Zuko's crazy sister had bent _lighting_ at his chest. Katara was a waterbender; she knew how dangerous lightning was. Somehow Zuko had been able to redirect the blast, but that one move had awakened Katara to a chilling reality.

Zuko's sister was willing to kill him.

Up until this point, she had chalked their relationship up to an aggressive version of sibling rivalry. Everything in the Fire Nation was more destructive, after all. But this went far beyond a simple contest to capture the Avatar and win the Fire Lord's approval. Zuko's sister had tried to shoot lightning _through his heart_ , as she had with Aang. But in the prince's case, the effects would have been permanent.

The heart-wrenching thing was that Zuko didn't seem surprised by his sister's violence. In fact, he had come to their fight _prepared_ to deflect such a deadly attack. He'd known the consequences for siding against his sister, and he'd still done it. Twice.

Toph must have sensed her distressed thoughts, because when Katara didn't answer Sokka's question, the blind earthbender shot back one of her own. "What happened to them, Katara?" she repeated, her voice more strained this time. "Are they…?"

Katara's chin dropped to her chest and she trembled, remembering the look in Zuko's eyes as he stood between her and Aang and the Dai Li. It was a look that was burned into her mind. Katara's mother had given her that look when telling her to run and find her father. Jet had given her the same look before Lake Laogai collapsed.

Zuko's amber eyes said he knew he was about to die. And he accepted it.

He wasn't her mother or her friend. He was her _enemy_. He was _Aang's_ enemy! It wasn't Zuko's responsibility to sacrifice himself for them! Why had he done it? Katara feared she would never be able to ask him now.

"I don't know," she gritted through clenched teeth and tears. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

There was silence again for a very long time.

* * *

It was cold. That was the first thing Zuko noticed when his consciousness began returning. Was this death? A cold, dark, empty abyss? He fought to get his eyes open. In his blurred vision were dark shapes and shadows. Zuko tried to stand, but a force from behind pulled him back down.

His senses continued to awaken, and he felt the stinging, icy grip of chains around his wrists. When he moved his legs, the sound of metal clinking against stone confirmed what he'd feared: his arms and legs were tethered to the wall behind him. He was trapped in what his eyes now recognized as a prison cell. The only light came through the barred window of the cell door.

Why wasn't he dead? He wasn't exactly complaining, but it didn't make sense. As far as Azula was concerned, he was a traitor to the Fire Nation. And disloyalty was high on the list of "Things To Do Around Azula If You Want To Be Killed".

Maybe their father wanted to deliver the sentence himself. Maybe Azula wanted to make an example of him first. Zuko couldn't be sure until someone came; the waiting was torturous.

He hadn't wanted to die, but what was really the point in living anymore? The Avatar was dead, and with him Zuko's hope. Not to mention the hope of the entire world. Without the Avatar to restore peace, the world would continue in an endless cycle of misery and violence and fear. There would be more fighting. More killing. More soldiers and militant police. More orphans and childless parents. Nothing would change.

When he was about to go mad from waiting, a shadow fell through the barred window. Zuko looked up, and was both relieved and apprehensive to see Azula standing there. She smiled at him as she unlocked the door to his cell and stepped inside.

"Why are you here?" Zuko asked in the strongest voice he could muster.

Azula laughed. "Why am I here? To set you free of course, dear Zuzu. I even brought you a gift." She tossed a set of Fire Nation clothes onto the floor in front of him.

Zuko couldn't have been more puzzled by her response. _Free…Clothes…What?_ "But why?" he questioned, dazed by this turn of events.

"Because you're my brother, Dum-Dum." Azula closed the gap between them and tilted Zuko's chin upward. "I've been thinking about what you did, and I think I understand why."

"You do?" Zuko's head was reeling.

"You've spent so much time away from home, stuck in deprivation with our traitorous uncle. That must have been so hard for you." Azula's expression was a semblance of pity. "What happened wasn't your fault. You were brainwashed, Zuko. And I forgive you."

"You. Forgive _me_ ," Zuko repeated incredulously. Something bizarre was going on here, but the ringing in his head kept him from concentrating long enough to figure it out.

"Yes, Zuko. Please try to keep up." His sister's thumb stroked his cheek. "I've sent word to Father that we've taken the Earth Kingdom. He wants us to come home."

It was official: either Zuko was dead or he had gone insane. That was his only explanation for the sentence that had come from Azula's lips. "'Us'?"

"Us. You and me. The two of us together," Azula rolled her eyes. "You could be a little happier about this, Zuko."

The old Zuko would have been happy. He would have been _ecstatic._ But all the banished prince felt was confusion and disappointment and dull pain. "But the Avatar…"

"The Avatar is dead," Azula smiled proudly. "And you will be hailed as the man who defeated him."

All the electric shocks and concussions and fatigue in the world couldn't keep alarm bells from going off loudly in Zuko's head. He had no idea what the rest of Azula's conversation was about, but this last statement was something Zuko _knew_ was false. "That was you," he argued. "You took down the Avatar."

"But I'm happy to share the glory with you," Azula parried with a sly grin. "This way, there will be no obstacles to your return. I've taken care of everything."

 _"Why?"_

"Call it a 'generous gesture'."

"You're lying!" Zuko shot back. He shook his head, trying to clear it. _Azula always lies. Azula always lies._ "What do you want, Azula? What's your reason for doing this?"

"Oh, Zuzu." Azula spoke in a patronizing tone and shook her head. "There's only one thing I want in return for my kindness. I want you to go along with what I say, and not tell Father the truth about the Avatar."

There was an ulterior motive here, Zuko was sure of it. He didn't know what it was yet, but he would pretend that he did. "What if I refuse? What if I tell Father that it was you?"

There was silence—deafening silence—for a good long minute. Then a smirk stretched its way from ear to ear across Azula's face.

"I hear it's hard for weepy, tea-loving old men in prison." She crouched down so that they were on the same eye level. "They don't often last long. And the sad thing is, if something happens to them, nobody knows. And nobody cares."

Zuko's eyes were wide and the soft rattle of chains gave away his trembling. Azula's threat couldn't be clearer if she had twisted his arm while making it. If he interfered with his sister's plans—whatever they were—then Uncle Iroh would suffer. His uncle: the one person who had never left him, even when the exiled prince made life around him miserable. His uncle whom he had _promised_ to save.

He could never make good on his word from jail. Zuko had to get out of here, get back to the Fire Nation, and come up with a plan to free his uncle.

Letting out a long breath, Zuko stared resolutely back at Azula. "All right. I won't say anything."

"I knew you wouldn't." Azula grinned as she produced a key from her pocket and released Zuko from his shackles. "Get dressed. I have an escort waiting for you outside. Now that the city has been secured, we're to return to the Fire Nation with all possible speed." The princess turned on her heel and left, leaving the door tauntingly open. She knew that he wouldn't try to escape.

 _An escort._ Zuko knew the real meaning behind those words. Even though he was leaving this cell, he was still a prisoner. But instead of chains, it was his love for his uncle that Azula was using to bind him. His sister had taken the one pure thing in his life and polluted it for her own ends. Zuko felt sick to his stomach.

He dressed himself in Fire Nation red and gold, fingers fumbling from poor circulation. He'd never expected to wear those colors again after he and Uncle Iroh had become fugitives. Zuko carefully folded his Earth Kingdom clothes and set them neatly on the ground, his fingers lingering on the fabric for a moment. What he wouldn't give to go back to yesterday. Wait…was it even yesterday that he'd been captured? How long had he been unconscious? Zuko didn't like not knowing.

As he left the prison, two fire nation soldiers fell in line on either side of him. Zuko's eyes flickered from side to side, taking in his "escorts". Their faces were expressionless. He couldn't tell how they felt about walking with him, the Fire Nation's dishonored prince. And he suspected they wouldn't answer any of his questions.

That was probably for the best. He needed to lay low for a while: play things inconspicuously. Tact wasn't Zuko's strong suit, so he had to keep his mouth shut and hope that no one provoked him.

As the trio left the palace and walked through town, the streets cleared in front of them. Frightened villagers ran and took refuge in their homes. Shame coiled in Zuko's stomach like a serpent. He had lived among these people, and now they were terrified of him because he was Fire Nation. Worse, they had every reason to be. Zuko's travels had taught him what "sharing their country's greatness with the world" entailed, and it was horrifying. He was glad to leave Ba Sing Sae before it was rendered indistinguishable from the Earth Kingdom's other broken occupied cities.

"Lee...!" Zuko heard a soft voice call out to him as he passed the Pao Family Tea House. He stopped in his tracks and turned, seeing Jin at the door. His one-time date stared at him with wide, confused eyes. Of course; she still believed him to be a travelling circus performer. Seeing him dressed as the enemy must be quite a shock. Jin moved to approach him and the soldiers, but Pao caught her by the arm.

"Jin." Pao pulled her back towards the safety of the tea shop. "Stay inside."

She seemed about to protest when Zuko looked away, unable to meet her gaze or Pao's any longer. The soldiers tightened their distance around him and their march continued.

So many of these people, including Jin, were refugees that had fled from their homes because of the war. And now the war had come to them. The emotion that was close to anger but different stirred inside Zuko again, momentarily taking over his feelings of disgrace. There must be a way to help these people. To fix this. Somehow.

An ironclad Fire Nation ship was waiting in the harbor when Zuko arrived. And standing in front of the gangplank was a face he hadn't expected to see.

"Mai…"

His childhood sweetheart looked up from her post. "Kept me waiting long enough," she sighed in a monotone voice. As Zuko neared, he saw a small smile light up her bored expression. She reached out and touched his hand and he didn't pull away. He could use some reassurance right now. "So, you're finally coming home."

Zuko nodded. "I guess so." He and Mai looked at each other, trying to figure each other out. Zuko was at a loss for words; what should he say to someone he hadn't seen in three years? Luckily, he didn't have to say anything. Mai squeezed his hand tightly and pulled him up the gangplank and onto the boat.

"We'd better get going. You know Azula hates waiting."

He did.


	2. Gilded Cage

Zuko stood on the deck of the ironclad Fire Nation ship, looking out into the night. In a matter of hours, they would be in the Capital City and he would have to face the Fire Lord—his father. The thought made his insides tie in knots.

"Aren't you cold?"

Zuko looked to the side as Mai came up next to him with a small smile on her face. She was the only one on this ship that the prince felt remotely safe around. Everyone else was too under Azula's thumb.

"I've got a lot on my mind," Zuko admitted, letting his guard down a bit. "It's been so long. Over three years since I was home. I wonder what's changed." He gripped the ship's railing, looking off into the dense fog. "I wonder how I've changed…"

Mai yawned. "I just asked if you were cold. I didn't ask for your whole life story."

Zuko tensed. It seemed like Mai was making fun of him. He looked away, even as he heard her footsteps close in behind him. Suddenly there was an arm around his shoulders and a hand turning his face towards hers. "Stop worrying," Mai softly entreated with a laugh. She leaned up to kiss him and Zuko turned into it. The kiss was quick, and they looked into each other's eyes for a minute when it broke.

The prince struggled for something to say, but Mai had turned and gone before he could even think of a response.

He sighed deeply, looking back at the sea in resignation. Mai was the same girl he had grown up with, but for some reason it was harder to talk to her now. She gave him plenty of physical affection, but she didn't seem to understand what was going on in his head. Not that he expected anybody to understand or care. It would be unfair to force his personal concerns upon anyone in the Fire Nation. Their lives had gone on peacefully, completely uninterrupted by his absence.

And the person he wanted to talk to most had been taken on another ship ahead of their party. At least that's what Zuko had heard while eavesdropping on a pair of gossiping soldiers. The prince realized, only now, how much he had taken Uncle Iroh's company for granted. The older man had always listened to him, no matter how rambling and whiny Zuko must have been. And all those times his uncle had acted crazy and over the top and blasted everyone's eardrums with a tsungi horn…he'd been trying to cheer Zuko up. The prince felt like a complete idiot for not realizing that sooner.

He looked down into the murky depths of the ocean, watching waves crash against each other as the ship's bow cut through them like a…

…knife. Zuko's eyes widened and his hands did a pat down of his clothes, looking in vain for an object he knew wasn't there. His pearl-handled dagger from Uncle Iroh! Where was it? It hadn't been in his discarded Earth Kingdom clothing either. He must have lost it during the battle with Azula. Or after he'd been captured. Either way, it was gone.

Zuko braced himself against the side of the ship, feeling the loss like a punch in the gut. Uncle's gift was _gone_.

* * *

After his and Azula's presentation to the nobles that morning, Zuko expected to be taken to the Fire Lord immediately. Instead his sister left for training with Lo and Li and a servant quietly escorted the prince back to his old room. She extended him all the basic courtesies, but acted very tentative. She seemed to be gauging where he stood in the Fire Lord's favor. Not knowing himself, Zuko could hardly blame her.

The room hadn't remained untouched in Zuko's three year absence. The floor had been retiled and the pattern on the rug was different. All his personal possessions were gone. No one had been expecting him to return. Zuko flopped down on the bed, wondering how many people had slept in it while he'd been away.

He stared at the golden canopy for a long time before his stomach growled. He hadn't eaten since yesterday. Zuko considered ignoring the hunger pains, as he'd become accustomed to doing, but he didn't want his body making loud, rude noises when— _if_ —he met with the Fire Lord.

Zuko pulled himself off the bed and slowly walked to the door, opening and closing it behind him without a sound. The halls were empty. The soft, plodding sound of his footsteps became louder as the rugs disappeared and the hallways became narrower on his way to the kitchen. He reached out and touched a gold and red wall. The palace was like a memory from a distant dream; it was familiar, but Zuko felt no connection with it.

He got turned around only once, ending up in a supply room. He went back to the fork in his path and went left instead. The aromas wafting down the corridor drew more sounds from Zuko's stomach. His face colored red and he put a hand on his abdomen, glaring in disapproval as if that would silence it. Finally finding the kitchen door, Zuko took a deep breath before easing it open.

Several cooks were bustling about the kitchen preparing for the next meal. They were in their element: chopping and stirring and boiling without sparing a glance in his direction. Clearly they had a lot to get done, and Zuko hated to interrupt them. Seeing a tray of buns just a few feet away, the prince thought that maybe he could take one before someone noticed. If he could evade Zhao and Azula and scores of trained Fire Nation soldiers, a few chefs shouldn't give him any problem.

Zuko's fingers were inches away from his prize when a hand came down and slapped his forcefully. Stunned, the teenager's eyes shot up at the person who'd caught him. It was an older man, whose years in the kitchen had given him sharp reflexes and keen peripheral vision. He'd sensed the prince and struck him without ever getting a good look at him. "Jung," the cook scolded in a harsh, loud voice, "if you try to pinch so much as a lychee nut from this kitchen again, I'll feed you to the tigerdillos."

"Sir…" A boy about Zuko's age—who must be Jung—stammered from the other side of the kitchen.

Perplexed to see his presumed suspect so far from the scene of the crime, the cook turned to see whom he had hit. The old man's eyes grew as they swept over Zuko's scar and red headpiece, and he dropped to the floor. "Your highness!" Suddenly every eye in the kitchen was on Zuko, and everyone abandoned their work and fell to their knees. The chef who had struck him was bending his head so low that his crooked nose was brushing the floor. "A thousand apologies, your highness. Please, have mercy. I never, in my wildest dreams, would have dared…"

"No. No. Please stand up." All the bowing and scraping made Zuko extremely uncomfortable. Way more than a little slap ever could. His hand stung, and there were white finger marks on his reddening skin, but it wouldn't bruise. It was hardly something to get worked up over. "It doesn't matter. Don't worry about it."

"You're far too generous, Prince Zuko. Please, let me redeem myself."

The young firebender squirmed. "Really, there's no reason for that. I didn't mean to cause you any problems."

"Problems?" The chef finally dared to look up from the ground, though his gaze didn't meet Zuko's. "Your highness, we're honored to have you here. This kitchen is at your service. Whatever you desire is yours."

The prince wanted to leave, but he was too conscious of the disgrace that would bring to these hardworking people. Plus, he was still hungry. "I'll just take whatever you can spare." Zuko wasn't used to having choices; he just ate whatever was put in front of him.

All the cooks seemed to snap out of their trance at once. They got up from the floor and begun working frantically to finish as many dishes as they could. Jung cleared a spot for Zuko at one of the preparation tables, shamefacedly avoiding the royal guest. He pulled up a chair, brushing flour off the seat and setting a cushion there to make it more comfortable. Zuko sat down carefully and whispered his thanks. Jung either didn't hear or chose not to respond.

Before long, the table in front of Zuko was spread with a miniature banquet: dumplings, komodo sausages, mochi, fried squid, and fruit tarts with rose petals. He tried to protest that this was far too much for him to eat, but the expectant faces of the kitchen staff stopped him. Zuko sighed, picked up the pair of chopsticks at his right hand, and started with the dumplings. He ate slow at first, but the more he consumed, the hungrier he became. His body, which had survived for three years on a soldier's rations and whatever he could scrape together on the run, was demanding the sustenance it had been denied so long. He ate more than half of the feast before he was full.

Zuko sat at the table while it was cleared away, sipping a cup of spice tea while his stomach settled. Something about the brew tasted off, but he couldn't say what. Uncle Iroh would have known. Maybe he could take something to his uncle in a little while. Prison fare was probably disgusting.

"Was the food to your satisfaction, your highness?"

Zuko looked up into the tanned face of a female cook. He nodded. "Yes, it was very good. Thank you."

She bowed. "We're honored to hear that. In the future, we would happy to just bring your meals to your room."

Zuko's cheeks colored pink as the her subtle meaning came through. They didn't want him coming back here, making things more difficult for them. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yes, of course." The prince stood, once more eying the buns on the counter as an idea came into his mind. "Would it be too much trouble if I took one of those?" he gestured.

"Of course not, your highness." The cook grabbed the tray and held it up for him. "Take as many as you wish."

"Thank you. I only need one." Zuko took a bun from the tray and bowed respectfully to excuse himself. The kitchen staff returned his gesture, not as excessively as before—to his relief.

Leaving the kitchen, Zuko retreated outdoors. The weather was nice: clear skies and a slight breeze, a welcome contrast to the confining walls and stale air of the palace. He walked down to the turtleduck pond and sat by the water's edge, tearing off small pieces of the bun to feed the animals one at a time.

He stared into the pool, scrutinizing his reflection through the ripples. When the bun was gone, he placed his hand over the disfigured skin on the left side of his face. The features of a young Fire Lord Ozai stared back at him with disdain. No wonder the kitchen servants had been so afraid of him. Disproportionate punishments were a family tradition, after all. For once, Zuko was grateful for the scar; it was the only thing setting him apart from the man the whole world feared.

So far, returning to the Fire Nation had brought Zuko nothing but discontent. Even this garden, which held memories of his loving mother, seemed cold and foreign. And his spirits darkened further when a shadow crossed the surface of the pond, sending the turtleducks swimming away.

"You seem so downcast," Azula noted in a taunting voice. "Has Mai gotten to you already? Though actually," Zuko's sister raised her hand to a chin in a pondering gesture, "Mai has been in a strangely good mood lately."

"I haven't seen Father yet," Zuko replied, changing the course of the conversation. "I haven't seen him in three years. Since I was banished."

"So what?"

Zuko was taken aback by his sister's blasé response. ' _So what?'_ So what that he hadn't seen his sire in ages? So what that his entire future was in the hands of the man who had permanently scarred him? So what that Azula had probably already met with the Fire Lord, while every second spent waiting for an audience was tormenting the prince? For someone so notoriously skilled at reading people, Azula was acting as oblivious to his feelings as Mai. Or maybe it _was_ an act, to get under his skin and make him say something that he shouldn't. Well, he was done giving his thoughts out so freely. Zuko averted his eyes from his sister and focused on the pale sunlight dancing across the water.

Not satisfied with her brother's muteness, Azula pressed on. "I'm sure that Father will send for you soon. I've already been to see him," she smirked, putting her hands on her hips, "and I made sure to put in several good words for you."

Zuko's jaw tightened. No doubt their definitions of "good words" were very different, and he was glad not to have been around to hear. He didn't know if his sister expected gratitude or some scathing retort, but he had nothing to give either way.

After a few more moments of silence, Azula frowned. Obviously she hadn't gotten her desired reaction. "Well. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about." Her shadow withdrew across the pond's reflection and out of sight.

Zuko sat in the garden until the sun had long passed its apex in the sky, breathing deeply and trying to find some peace. Yearning to feel anything other than deep loneliness. But it wasn't any use. In spite of the lingering phantom memories, this place wasn't home anymore.

* * *

Late that night, a servant came to his door. "The Fire Lord wishes to see you right away, Prince Zuko."

Zuko froze, both "fight" and "flight" instincts battling for control of his body. His fists clenched in his lap, nails making indents in his palms. His anxiety had been building all day, churning in his stomach, and was now spiraling into a full-blown panic. He couldn't do this. He couldn't face his father. But there was no choice; he knew that. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths, letting the dread flow through him.

He rummaged through his mind for a pleasant memory. Few remained that hadn't been tainted by sorrow and regret. One grabbed his attention almost immediately, though, and Zuko was surprised at himself for thinking of it. Still, he held tight to the remembrance, letting himself be filled by a warm sort of strength. Afraid he may be, but Zuko refused to let the fear rule him.

In a minute, the young prince nodded and stood. His retainer helped him into a set of regal clothing and armor and replaced his red headpiece with a gold one. Zuko caught his reflection in the mirror; he looked every bit a prince, regardless of what he felt inside.

His walk to the throne room was excruciating. The sound of his footsteps was a whisper compared to the sound of blood pumping in his ears like a death march. Zuko felt small next to the looming shadows cast by the glowing lamps mounted on the walls and ceilings. This journey was one he'd taken many times, and it had intimidated him ever since childhood. But now, neither Mother nor Uncle Iroh were at his side. Even Azula's company would have been preferable to going alone.

He paused at the entrance to the throne room, looking up at the royal symbol emblazoned on the silk tapestry hanging there. There was no way to know what lay beyond the large draped doorway, and it would be too late to go back by the time he entered. Zuko sighed in resignation. He couldn't stand there all night, waiting for the moment to pass him by. Sooner or later, he had to face what lay beyond this entryway. And "sooner" would be better in the long run.

Gathering his courage, Zuko marched up to the silk door and pushed it aside with both hands. Across the black tiled room, past the obsidian and gold pillars and beyond a wall of tall fire sat Fire Lord Ozai on his throne. Zuko was rendered immobile for an instant, though he wasn't sure which memory of which Fire Lord had fixed him to that spot. But it hardly mattered; the feelings he held for his father and grandfather were largely the same.

Passing four rows of columns, the prince had gone as far as he knew was allowed. He lowered to his knees and prostrated himself on the ground, head bowed low and palms pressed firmly against the cool tiles. His breaths came deep and quiet, and his eyes remained shut. He dared not look at his reflection in the polished floor, nor at the Fire Lord.

From behind the wall of flame, the rich, commanding voice Zuko could not have forgotten spoke. "You've been away for a long time. I see the weight of your travels has changed you. You have redeemed yourself, my son."

The words burned in Zuko's ears. _'My son.'_ It was a phrase of recognition he had waited so long to hear. The sound of rustling fabric signaled movement, and the prince looked up as the Fire Lord crossed the boundary between them, his large shadow casting itself on the floor. Ever so tentatively, Zuko raised his eyes upwards until he and his sire were staring at each other with locked gazes. The air was thick with tension—it reminded the young firebender too much of another moment he'd spent on his knees. The image flashing before his eyes like white lightning almost kept him from hearing what Ozai said next: "Welcome home."

 _No._ Zuko's mind protested. _This isn't right. This isn't at all how I imagined it would be._ He seemed farther from home now than when he'd been on the other side of the world. But his misgivings remained sealed inside him. If he couldn't speak them to Mai or Azula, they certainly wouldn't be welcome here.

Leaving the dais, Fire Lord Ozai began to circle his son slowly. Zuko forced his gaze to remain straight ahead, not wanting to look intimidated.

"I am proud of you, Prince Zuko. I am proud because you and your sister conquered Ba Sing Se." The Fire Lord's statements were carefully measured and pronounced, as if he had timed them to the rhythm of his stride. Regardless of the chamber's pervasive heat, every sentence sent a chill through the prince's heart.

"I am proud because when your loyalty was tested—by your treacherous uncle—you did the right thing and captured the traitor. And I am proudest of all of your most legendary accomplishment: you slayed the Avatar."

It took every muscle Zuko had tensing at once to keep his body from trembling under the weight of shame and disgust. The cheers of the Fire Nation nobles over the demise of the Avatar and the fall of the Earth Kingdom were still fresh in his ears. The reception had sickened him. The people of his country didn't truly understand what conquering another nation meant. How could they? He hadn't known before witnessing the atrocities firsthand. Even so, cheering for the death of a child—even an enemy—was sick. Getting credit for destroying the world's peace made Zuko's humiliation all the worse.

But his guilt turned to rage when he thought about his uncle. 'Treacherous'? General Iroh, the Dragon of the West, was anything but. If he hadn't come along on Zuko's crazy worldwide goose chase, Uncle Iroh would be quietly enjoying a comfortable, well-earned retirement: drinking tea and playing Pai Sho without a care in the world. His uncle was a threat to no one, and Zuko hated hearing his guardian's reputation slandered that way.

None of these judgements made it to the prince's lips, however. "What did you hear?" he inquired of the Fire Lord, who was standing just behind him. The weight of his father's presence so near was crushing.

"Azula told me everything," Ozai's voice resonated loudly in Zuko's ears. "She said she was amazed and impressed at your power and ferocity at the moment of truth." The Fire Lord's voice carried just a hint of suspicion. Zuko wanted to reply that he was right to doubt Azula's claims, for they were lies. Every last one. He was no conqueror, and his loyalties were not nearly as concrete as his father believed.

"I only did what was right," Zuko declared candidly, lying only by omitting the context of his answer.

"And for your loyalty, you shall be rewarded," Ozai proclaimed in his sonorous tone. "I hereby revoke your banishment and restore your rank, privileges, and honor as Crown Prince of the Fire Nation. I look forward to seeing you at court." The Fire Lord finished his ring around Zuko and once more ascended to the throne. Taking his seat, Ozai's face was again obscured by shadow and the haze from the fire. "That is all for the evening. You are dismissed."

Zuko prostrate himself once more before climbing to his feet and silently leaving. He remained silent and emotionless all the way back to his quarters. Once the door to his room was closed tight behind him, he pulled the golden headpiece from his hair and let it drop to the ground. Zuko sank to his knees and wrapped his arms around himself. Seeing his father had been his last hope of filling the overwhelming emptiness he felt. But he hadn't felt a thing. Not when Fire Lord called him "son" or welcomed him home or praised him. Not when his honor had been restored or the invitation to court extended to him. Nothing but a hollow sadness occupied Zuko's heart.

He finally had everything he had wanted for three long years…after already letting it go.


End file.
